Arms of an Angel (5 page)

“
Ah little lady, you’re both
right and wrong, but either way I can’t see an ounce of the devil
in you. Seems to me you’re just acting like the adults around
you.”

She nodded, her young mind trying to process
what he’d said. “How is that right and wrong?”

“
Well,” he began, sitting a
plate of cookies and glass of milk on the table before her. He sat
down across from his beautiful angel. “True angels are in heaven.
But they’re also all around us.”

“
Really?” Her wide eyes held
both concern and uncertainty.

“
Really. Read your Bible
sometime, Claire. You’ll see I’m telling you true.” He nodded. “I’m
pretty sure you’ve got one standing beside you right
now.”

Claire’s eyes got big a she turned to look
and, of course, saw nothing. Still she shuddered a bit and kept
glancing to her side.

Joe chuckled as he continued. “Then there are
those certain people that will cross your path along your walk of
life. They’ll change your course for the good or bad. Those who
change it for the better - you have to wonder if they weren’t sent
by God. Those are the people I call angels. Perhaps an earthly
angel of sorts… that’s what you are to me.” He reached across and
touched her cheek. She smiled, kissed his weathered old hand
splattered permanently, it seemed, with paint of varying
colors.

“
I think you’re one too,
Joe. For me at least.”

“
Nah.” He looked at her with
such intense wisdom she couldn’t help but believe his words that
followed. “You’ll have your angels, Claire. Old Joe isn’t one of
them. But they’ll come. You watch. You’ll see.”

“
I think you’re wrong… about
you, I mean. But I’ll watch for the others too.” She smiled the
smile of a contented child and went back to devouring her cookies.
Joe smiled his own smile as he leaned back and took a long sip of
his tea.

And there it was, years later, her without
the ability to have children and him still holding the painting…the
painting of her little girl. Claire thought for a moment, her face
masked with disappointment. Maybe the girl in the painting was the
only little girl she’d ever have.

Claire glanced over the other works she’d
painted the day before, fixating momentarily on the one of Garrett
as the angel. Joe had always called her his angel because she’d
helped him get set up in his business location and even talked her
dad into signing over the deed to him and paying the bills until
the old artist was able to stand on his own two feet. Claire
wondered if everyone in life had someone who’d been sent to save
them.

She grabbed her wrap and headed down to wait
for Garrett. “Please be real,” she whispered as she rode down in
the elevator. As the doors opened she was greeted with his smiling
face. She glanced at her watch.

“
You’re not late,” he told
her as he offered his arm which, of course, she took.

“
I thought perhaps a stroll
up the street to Hannigans?”

“
Good choice.” She smiled up
at him and squeezed his arm.

“
What’s that
for?”

She shrugged. Just checking to make sure
you’re real.” They both laughed as they stepped out into the late
morning air. “I’d half expected that I’d dreamed you up and you’d
be a no-show this morning.”

“
I think I’m the one with
the dream.”

“
Careful now. You know what
they say about flattery, my dear…”

They continued with the playful flirtations
as they walked; each content with the reality that held them.

“
So how was country brunch
with Mum?” she asked when they were seated and the waiter had moved
on so they might peruse their menus.

”
Mum…and the rest of the
family. It was delicious. Can’t beat homemade country cooking.
You’ll have to join me sometime.”

Claire nearly choked on her response. “That’s
a bit presumptuous for two people who have just met, don’t you
think?”

Garrett shrugged.

“
Let me guess. You already
told your mom about me?”

“
Guilty.” Garrett winced.
“Am I that transparent? Is that a bad thing? That I told her I
mean?”

“
Again presumptuous, but
flattering. I have that effect on people,” she teased.

He smiled at her as the waiter returned. It
was a smile that told her she’d had an effect on him, all kidding
aside.

Claire liked the way he was looking at her.
She liked that he’d told his mom about her and even the fact that
he’d consider taking her home.

“
Did you grow up in Morgan’s
Falls?” she asked over casual eating conversation.

“
No. We had a place just off
of Shay and McCarthy.” Claire nodded indicating she knew where it
was. “I’m not too far from there now. There’s a school nearby and
they have that great park…”

“
I know the one. It’s been
there forever. My mom and I used to go back when swings and
merry-go-rounds weren’t lawsuits waiting to happen. So, your
parents…they just up and moved? How long ago?”

“
A couple of
years.”

Claire was puzzled by his sudden stiffness.
It was obvious he didn’t want to discuss it further. She thought it
odd and welcomed the waiter’s return to take their order. The
conversation would undoubtedly take a different course when it
resumed.

As the waiter left their table Claire’s
attention was caught by a small child two tables down. Garrett
watched her watching the little girl’s animated antics. She turned
back to him with an amused smile.

“
They undoubtedly have their
hands full”, she laughed.

“
That’s a two year old for
you,” Garrett agreed. “So I suppose you see yourself with a whole
passel of kids,” he teased.

She shook her head. “No worry that’s going to
happen.” She looked back at the little girl still giving her
parents a run for their money. “I wouldn’t have minded one or two…”
Her voice was noticeably more quiet. She sighed then looked back
and shrugged.

“
So, Claire, tell me more
about yourself.” The you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look on Claire’s face
caused Garrett to burst into laughter that garnered looks from the
occupants of the tables nearby. “Too psychologistish huh?” he said
more quietly.

“
Quite!” she teased. “You do
have a way of pulling out that couch, don’t you?”

He nodded and shrugged his apology.

“
What could I tell you? I’m
quite shallow actually.” He began to protest, which she ignored and
went on. “You already know I’m a poor, orphaned, rich girl and that
I don’t do much of anything… Oh! I know something you’ll never
guess… I paint.”

“
Really? Paint as in …” he
tried to coax her along. She knew what he was doing and decided to
toy with him. “Walls and stuff,” she shrugged. “As in houses and
such. A little subway graffiti every now and again.”

She was so serious, he wasn’t sure whether to
believe her or not, no matter how unrealistic it seemed. He worked
his lower jaw as he tried to picture her with a roller in hand
decked out in painter’s overalls.

“
Oh what a priceless
expression. Almost as good as the look on Mr. Ballard’s face when
he thought his job was on the line,” she laughed then reached over,
without thought, to pat his hand. He jumped at her unexpected
touch. They stared at each other, then he surprised her by grasping
her hand and bringing her fingers to his lips.

“
The hand of an artist. You
shall have to show me your work sometime. And I shall have to
remind myself of that which I forgot that first night.”

“
And what was that?” she
asked enjoying the continued warmth of his gaze.

“
That I must always be on
guard around you!” He kissed her hand again then released
it.

The warm feeling remained as she clasped her
hands together beneath the table and the date lapsed into casual
comfort.

It was nearing 1:00 when they left the
restaurant and headed slowly back toward her building.

“
Ah! You found a spot to
park. Amazing. They’re not always easy to come by,” Claire
commented as they paused beside his car a few spaces down from the
circle drive that marked the entrance to her building. “You can
always tell the doorman you’re here to visit me and they’ll give
you a pass for the garage.”

Garrett smiled sheepishly. “So…does that
statement serve as permission to call on you again?” he asked.

“
Hmm. I suppose perhaps it
does…as well as alleviating the awkward situation of you trying to
figure out how to ask me.”

He shook his head. “You really are borderline
wicked.”

She nodded in agreement and they both
laughed.

“
So? Are we making another
date or is it just an open invite; the old I’ll call you - sometime
approach?” she asked.

“
You know, Claire, you
should really try being less bashful. Don’t be afraid to speak your
mind,” he teased.

“
Oh, my dear, if I truly did
speak my mind even your psychologist training wouldn’t keep you
from being shocked.” Claire smiled her most wicked smile as she
leaned toward him.

Garrett swallowed hard. She ran her hand down
his arm and he shuddered.

“
Women in your circles
aren’t so forward?” She tried to sound demure. “Perhaps they just
don’t know how to ask for what they want.” She reached up and
kissed him.

“
Oh Claire.” He gazed down
at the most delightful woman he’d ever come across. “As much as I’d
love to pursue your train of thought…”

“
I know. It’s that darn boy
scout blood of yours.” She looked away to hide the feeling of
rejection. Men never told her no.

“
I don’t want to sound
preachy but doesn’t what you’re suggesting entail even a smidgen of
commitment?” he blurted out.

“
Why?” she asked. “It takes
a lot less of the getting-to-know-you conversation than the dates
we’ve had,” she told him.

“
But…intimacy! It’s so…” he
fought for a word.

“
Intimate!” she added
sarcastically. She rolled her eyes. “Come on Garrett. Tell me
you’re not just a little bit interested.” She pressed against him,
molding herself to him, surprised he didn’t immediately step
away.

“
I never said I wasn’t
interested, Claire. I just prefer getting to know a woman starting
here.” He pointed to her head. “And here.” He tapped the exposed
flesh above her heart. “Then…” He kissed her; a passionate kiss
that left her breathless.

She stared up at him for a moment, fighting
for air in shallow gasps. “You confuse me,” she said as she pushed
away from him.

“
Seems pretty straight
forward to me,” he laughed. “And, how about lunch Wednesday? Can
you meet me at Louie’s at 1:00? I have the afternoon
free.”

“
Free for?” she asked with
the same sarcastic tone.

“
Free for not having to rush
away if we end up having another 2 ½ hour meal. If our history
holds true, we seem to need a couple of hours minimum to make it
through a meal.”

She smiled. “Are you sure you’re not an angel
in a handsome man’s clothing?” she asked as she kissed him again, a
light peck on the cheek.

The desire in his gaze gave her the answer.
Another smile and she walked away.

“
See you on Wednesday,” she
called over her shoulder knowing he’d remain where he was, watching
her go, until she’d disappeared behind the heavy doors of her
building. A quick glance back as Charlie opened the doors told her
she was right.

* * * * *

Just inside the door of Louie’s Pub and
Grille, Garrett waited, pleasure evident on his face as Claire
crossed the threshold.

“
Do you ever not look like a
million bucks?” he asked as he kissed her cheek.

“
Only when I look like a
trillion,” she teased. As always happened, heads turned as they
were escorted to their table.

“
I presume you can’t tell me
about your day, so I won’t even ask. How about whatever it is you
do to fill your hours when you’re not at your office?” she asked as
they waited for pre-meal salads.

“
Well, I spend a lot of time
reading and going over cases...”

“
No. I mean in your off
time. When you’re not working,” she interrupted as she squeezed
lemon over her freshly delivered salad.

“
No dressing?” He scrunched
his face ignoring her question.

“
Not as healthy,” she told
him, “but feel free. I won’t lecture if you slather your rabbit
food in mouth watering goodness. Gee. It does sound better that
way. Okay, you’ve convinced me.” She reached for the bottle of
dressing and poured it on. “What?”

He was shaking his head. “You know people who
manage to be easily persuaded or talk themselves into things are
good candidates for my services,” he teased.

“
Very funny. I’m trying to
be more receptive to new and different. I took a chance in meeting
you again, didn’t I?” she teased. “And you never answered my
question.”

“
That is what I do. What? It
can be enjoyable,” he protested when she rolled her eyes. “What
should I be doing? Frequenting clubs and seducing beautiful women –
a different one for every night of the week? Not sure that would be
good for my practice.”